Page 35 of Tangled in Temptation

I chuckled, amused by the thought. “Aren’t we? But I’m not a city guy anymore. Being here is a necessary evil.”

Pulling up to my apartment building, I waited for the valet to open her door before getting out. As we entered the lobby, her eyes widened at the luxurious finishes. I led her to the elevator and pressed the button for my penthouse.

The doors opened to reveal a spacious living room with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The city lights sparkled, casting a soft glow over the plush white furniture and contemporary art pieces adorning the walls. It was nothing like the Manor with all the dark wood. My apartment was sterile and cold, while the Manor exuded warmth.

“Wow,” she murmured, stepping into the room with an air of awe. She walked toward the windows and shook her head. “This is ridiculous. Look at this place. This city is huge.”

“It’s obnoxious, right?”

“Oh no, it’s beautiful,” she replied without turning from the view. She looked small against the backdrop of the vast city that stretched on forever.

I chuckled to myself. “Would you like to see the rest of the place? I have to admit, I haven’t even seen half of it.”

“How big is it?”

“Too big,” I admitted, leading her farther into the apartment. “Four bedrooms, five baths, a study, a fitness room... Not exactly cozy.”

She followed me as we wandered through the sprawling layout, her eyes wide with curiosity. This penthouse seemed alien to her. I had been in her house and her father’s shop. Looking at it through her eyes, I saw how pretentious it all was. It wasn’t a home. It was flashy with all the latest tech. It was so cold.

“It’s like a different world,” she finally said as we stood in the farthest corner of the apartment, gazing out at the twinkling city lights.

“It is,” I agreed. “But not always in a good way. It can be a little isolating.”

“But it does feel like you are in a tower, far removed from some of that stuff I saw down on the streets.”

“It’s my little haven in the city,” I replied.

“I think the word you’re looking for is bachelor pad,” she teased.

“It is that,” I agreed.

She tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. “It’s hard to see you in a modern penthouse. You seem so at home in the Manor.”

“I am,” I said. “This was my life before that.”

She was silent for a moment, taking in the sleek furnishings and the cutting-edge art pieces. “So which one do you prefer?” she asked, her curious eyes looking into mine.

I shrugged. “The Manor is my family legacy. It’s filled with memories. This place”—I waved my hand around the minimalist penthouse—”it’s clean, functional. It’s efficient. It’s spacious and as they say, it’s a great location.”

“But it’s not home.” She finished my sentence, her words filled with understanding.

I nodded, surprised by her insight. “Exactly.”

She moved to the wall-length window, pressing her hands against the cold glass as she took in the swarm of lights and life below. Her reflection in the glass held a certain melancholy. “It feels so lonely.”

“It can be,” I said.

I stepped closer to her until my breath was brushing across her neck.

“You know,” I said in a low voice, “I imagined kissing you right here, with the city as our backdrop.”

Catherine slowly turned to look at me, her lips curving into a playful smile. “Oh, did you now?”

I nodded, brushing a curl from her face. The air crackled with a magnetic pull, drawing us closer until our lips were mere inches apart. My heart raced, a mixture of anticipation and longing.

She hesitated, her breath mingling with mine. “This is casual,” she whispered.

The words stung. Casual. The very idea of being with someone other than Catherine or the thought of her with someone else felt like a punch to the gut. I brushed my lips over hers, savoring the taste of her. She was using the same word I had. I understood just how painful it was.